


Of spying and its consequences

by AnselaJonla



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-21
Updated: 2010-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-10 05:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnselaJonla/pseuds/AnselaJonla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyle is caught spying on the girls' locker room by the PE teaching assistant and punished</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of spying and its consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://kinkmeme.livejournal.com/3608.html?thread=2158104#t2158104) on the Gundam 00 kinkmeme. Beta'd by [](http://tea-fiend.livejournal.com/profile)[**tea_fiend**](http://tea-fiend.livejournal.com/), who probably owns my soul by now. Football in this refers to the proper stuff, as played in England. I don't know why Americans call over-armoured rugby 'football' when there is hardly any contact between foot and ball.

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[*genre: yaoi](http://anselajonlafic.livejournal.com/tag/%2Agenre:%20yaoi), [-gundam 00](http://anselajonlafic.livejournal.com/tag/-gundam%2000), [.lyle dylandy](http://anselajonlafic.livejournal.com/tag/.lyle%20dylandy), [.omc](http://anselajonlafic.livejournal.com/tag/.omc), [:lyle dylandy/omc](http://anselajonlafic.livejournal.com/tag/:lyle%20dylandy/omc), [dub-con](http://anselajonlafic.livejournal.com/tag/dub-con), [rating: 15](http://anselajonlafic.livejournal.com/tag/rating:%2015)  
  
  
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**Title:** Of spying and its consequences  
**Author:** Ansela Jonla  
**Fandom:** Gundam 00  
**Rating:** R  
**Warnings:** dub-con, abuse of authority  
**Summary:** Lyle is caught spying on the girls' locker room by the PE teaching assistant and punished  
**Word Count:** 2,234  
**Notes:** Written for [this prompt](http://kinkmeme.livejournal.com/3608.html?thread=2158104#t2158104) on the Gundam 00 kinkmeme. Beta'd by [](http://tea-fiend.livejournal.com/profile)[**tea_fiend**](http://tea-fiend.livejournal.com/), who probably owns my soul by now. Football in this refers to the proper stuff, as played in England. I don't know why Americans call over-armoured rugby 'football' when there is hardly any contact between foot and ball.

Lyle licked his lips as he settled himself against the peephole in the wall of the girls' locker room, thanking whatever god it was that decided that the girls' school should share sports facilities with the boys'. Mr Harper could go whistle dixie for all he cared; watching the girls get changed was _much_ more interesting than playing stupid football. Who knew, maybe he'd get lucky and cop some lesbian action in that mysterious sanctum of female nakedness. Lyle palmed his crotch, rubbing himself through his black uniform trousers as the Year Eleven girls began to file into the changing rooms. Spotting Siobhan, who was totally _stacked_, Lyle grinned. Definitely better than football. Even better when Cìara and Bridget took the next two pegs, stripping off to reveal luscious, smooth bodies and perky breasts, completely unaware of Lyle's presence just on the other side of the wall.

Lyle was so engrossed in watching the girls, his trousers now down around his ankles as he jerked off with his tie between his teeth to muffle his groans, that he failed to notice the door to the equipment locker opening and closing. He even failed to notice the bags of spare footballs being dragged behind the door to block it from being opened again, lost in his own fantasies about the girls that he could see.

Lyle froze when a large hand covered his own and an arm wrapped around his chest. Warm, slightly alcohol-tinged breath blew across his cheek and a wet tongue ran along the bottom of his ear. A low, rumbling voice sounded in his ear, but Lyle was too lost in his thoughts, variations on 'oh SHIT!', to understand it.

"I said, d'yae understan' me, Lyle Dylandy?" Lyle closed his eyes as he realised that it was Seamus Harris, assistant PE teacher and son of PE teacher Sean Harper and school nurse Theresa Harper, nee Harris. He was as notoriously lusty as his father had been until he'd finally made an honest woman of Theresa just a couple of months after Lyle had transferred to the Wellesley Boarding School. Lyle didn't like the man much, mostly due to his borderline flirtatious manner around him, coupled with the barely there touches that Lyle would have reported if Seamus' supervisor hadn't also been his father.

"I wasn't listening," Lyle stuttered, spitting out his black and white striped tie, resisting the urge to press back into the warm chest behind him. The hand on his cock squeezed gently, warningly. "Sir."

  
"I asked if yae wanted some help with tha'." Seamus began to stroke Lyle's cock, making the teenager bite his lip to prevent a moan from escaping. "It looks like yae need a hand there."

"My own will do just fine, sir," Lyle gasped out, throwing his head back onto the assistant's shoulder. "I didn't need any help from you. Now get off me, sir, or I'll scream."

Seamus' hand stilled and tightened, squeezing Lyle's cock just above his balls. "And then what would yae say? Yae'd be caned fer sure if yae was caught spyin' on the 'Liz'beth School girls, ye know that." Seamus nuzzled Lyle's neck before pulling him away from the wall and shoving him backwards towards a stack of crash mats. "Lay on there, Dylandy, and keep quiet. I have a better punishment than tha' old bastard's walkin' stick. The 'mount o' trouble yae get in, yae prob'ly like gettin' thrashed."

"No. No, I don't. And I'm leaving, sir," Lyle spat out, pushing off the crash mats and striding towards the door. He stopped short as he saw the four heavy bags blocking the exit, impossible to move in time before the pervert stopped him. Turning back round he glared at Seamus angrily. "You're a fucking perv, Seamus Harris."

"Takes one tae know one, Dylandy." Seamus prowled over to Lyle and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, attempting to pull him back to the crash mats. When Lyle didn't move he smirked and licked Lyle's neck. "I see. Yae wan' tae be taken 'gainst the wall, yer legs wrapped 'round my waist, moanin' like a whore dressed as an inn'cent school boy." Seamus shoved Lyle towards the wall, pinning him there before he could escape.

"No. No, I don...aah," Lyle' voice trailed off as Seamus palmed him through his trousers, the almost rough touch brining Lyle's erection back to full hardness. Seamus stroked him slowly, whispering softly in his ear, a stream of words that Lyle's arousal-fogged mind didn't comprehend.

Suddenly Seamus pulled back, an unusual look on his face as his eyes flickered over Lyle's body. "Tidy up yer un'form, Dylandy. Yer shirt an' tie are a disgrace, unbuttoned and hangin' loose like tha'"

"Sir?" Lyle didn't understand. First the bastard was fondling him and then he was telling him to fix his uniform as if the headmaster was going to be bringing visitors around the school.

  
"'Ones'ly, Dylandy, yer'd think yer was stupid or somethin'." Seamus began to fasten the buttons that Lyle had undone while he was lost in his earlier fantasies. "All I asked of yae was for yae tae fix yer un'form. Can yae no' e'en do tha' wi'out help now?"

"Of course I can. I just don't see why I should," Lyle spat, knocking Seamus' hands away from his tie and reknotting it himself. "I didn't think you meant it either. Seems like a damned weird thing to say when you're feeling someone up."

"Ha' yae ne'er heard o' bein' kinky, Dylandy?" Seamus made a minor adjustment to Lyle's tie and nodded, an approving look on his face. "That un'form is tight on yae, Dylandy, clingin' tae yer ev'ry line, showin' off yer muscles. I like tha'"

"You're even more of a perv than I suspected, Mr Harris, and I'm telling Mr Harper what you're like as soon as I get out of here."

"Nae, yae won', 'cause then yae'd ha' tae tell 'im yae were spyin' on the 'Liz'beth School girls and yae'd be caned fer sure." Seamus shoved Lyle back towards the crash mats. "Now jus' lay there and do as yer tol' or I'll tell me da that yae was spyin' and ask if I can be the one tae gi' yae yer pun'shmen'."

Lyle tried to turn over, feeling vulnerable with his chest against the mats and his arse in the air, but Seamus shoved him down again with one strong arm. "You wouldn't fucking dare. I could get you sacked for this."

"Aye, yae could. But yae won'." Seamus unzipped Lyle's fly and slipped his hand into the opening. "There'd be questions asked, the coppers would wan' tae know exactly wha' 'appened. Yae'd ha' tae stan' up in court and tell strangers wha' I done tae yae. Could yae do tha'?"

Lyle shuddered, thinking of that scenario, shaking his head as he realised that he couldn't do it. "No, sir, I couldn't."

"Good lad." Lyle moaned as Seamus' hand left his trousers, wanting more contact, more friction on his aching cock. A low moan slipped from his throat as he looked over his shoulder and saw that Seamus was pulling down his tracksuit bottoms. "Drop 'em, Dylandy."

"Yes, sir." Lyle swiftly unbuckled his belt and slipped his black trousers and his blue, cartoon figure festooned boxers, his only clean pair, down, letting them drop to the floor. He just wanted to get this over with quickly, and hopefully Seamus wouldn't want anything more from him now he'd finally got to fuck him.

"No' so dis'bedien' now, are yae?" Seamus ran a hand up Lyle's arse before smacking it, hard. Lyle yelped and tried to squirm away, and Seamus' hand pressed his neck to the mats to stop him, another swat landing on Lyle's arse. "Yae deserve this, Dylandy, fer bein' a perverted little shit what spies on good little girls gettin' changed in their own changin' room, bu' I'll gi' yae a choice. D'yae want to be fucked or spanked?"

Lyle didn't need to think, remembering the pain of being beaten from past punishments. "Fuck me, sir."

"Say it prop'ly, Dylandy. 'I've been a naughty boy, Mr Harris, and I need tae be fucked tae teach me a less'n.'" Seamus ran his hand over the fading red marks on Lyle's arse. "You goin' tae say it, or would yae rather be spanked?"

Lyle growled. He wasn't playing this game. He wouldn't say it. Another swat landed on his arse, directly on where Seamus had hit him the first time, and he winced. Swallowing his pride he repeated what Seamus had said.

"Goo' boy, Dylandy," Seamus crooned, almost lovingly, and Lyle shuddered. This guy was a perverted, psychopathic bastard with far too many kinks to be healthy. How the fuck had he got a teaching position, even if it was just as an assistant to his father? Hearing the click of a tube cap being closed, Lyle turned his head and gulped. 'That,' he thought, panicking, 'has to be _at least_ a foot long. It's never gonna fit _there_!'

"Relax, Dylandy." Seamus' fingers, coated with something cool and slippery, pressed against Lyle's entrance, trying to get inside. "Relax and it won' hurt as much."

"No way. You're not sticking _that_ in _there_! It'll never fit!" Lyle writhed under Seamus' hand, trying to break free and get away from him.

"I' will if yae jus' relax and le' me stretch yae ou' firs'," Seamus said soothingly, his finger now inside Lyle and moving around. "I said tae relax." Seamus slipped a second finger in, and a third. Lyle's arousal died down as the uncomfortable burning sensation flooded through him, making him whimper and fight to get away from the probing fingers. "Yae jus' don' know how tae do as yer told do yae, Dylandy?"

Lyle gasped as one of the intruding digits brushed against something inside of him, his arousal rushing back full force as a wave of pleasure crashed through his body. Once, twice, three times more Seamus touched that spot, before suddenly Lyle's arse was empty and then Seamus' hand was on the crash mat beside his head.

  
"Brace yerself with yer arms, Dylandy, but keep yer damn arse relaxed." Lyle nodded as he felt Seamus' cock press into him, whimpering as the engorged organ filled his just-stretched arse even more than Seamus' fingers had. After a few moments Seamus began to move, hammering into Lyle hard and fast, making the teenager whimper every time that magic spot was brushed against.

"Sir, please..." Lyle's voice trailed off, as he was unsure of how to ask Seamus to do what he wanted him to do. " Please!"

"Wha' is i', Dylandy?" Seamus leaned against Lyle's back, his warmth seeping into Lyle, his weight pressing him down. "Yae wan' me tae do somethin' fer yae?"

"Please. My... my cock..." Lyle whimpered.

"Yae know wha' yae ha' tae do if yae wan' me tae gi' yae relief, Dylandy." Seamu's hand left Lyle's neck and trailed down his side and front, stopping to play almost absent-mindedly with one of Lyle's nipples through his school shirt. "Ask me, Dylandy, prop'ly, if yae wan' me tae do i'."

Lyle closed his eyes and nodded. He couldn't get any friction on his cock himself and he was so hard now that it was hurting. "Please, Mr Harris, I want you to touch my cock. I want you to make me come, like the schoolboy whore that I am."

"Very goo', Dylandy, very goo'," Seamus murmered, his hand wrapping around Lyle's cock. It took only a few rough strokes for Lyle to come, his seed splattering all over Seamus' hand, the crash mats and, most annoyingly, the front of Lyle's only clean school shirt. A couple of thrusts later Seamus came as well, semen coating the inside of Lyle's arse and dripping down the inside of his thigh.

Seamus pulled out of Lyle with a groan, wiping his semen-stained hand on the back of Lyle's shirt as he did so. He cleaned himself up with a few tissues that he pulled from a packet in his tracksuit bottoms, and dropped the rest of the pack next to Lyle as he pulled his trousers back up and began to clear the bags of footballs away from the equipment room door. As Lyle cleaned himself up he became aware of a muffled voice from outside of the door, and Seamus' answer.

"Aye, da, I found Dylandy. He's no' feelin' so well, so I'll keep 'im in here tae take notes while I do the invent'ry yae said fer me tae do. Aye, there's somethin' blockin' the door. I had nowhere else tae pu' them. Aye, I'll move them back tae where they should be afore the end o' the less'n. Aye. See yae later, da." After a few seconds of listening, Seamus turned back to Lyle. "Yae heard wha' I said. Get yer pen ou' yae bag and star' takin' notes. Maybe if yae do a goo' job I won' need tae punish yae 'gain."

Lyle shivered at the thought of being fucked like that again, whether out of pleasure or fear he couldn't tell, and he scrambled to find the bag he'd dropped when he first entered the equipment locker. Seamus Harris was a perverted, kinky fucker, but at least he wasn't all that bad a person.


End file.
